大象传媒

My father was not a war hero, but the war certainly killed him!

My name is Margaret Partridge (nee Findlay) and I was 8 years old when war broke out. My parents were Bill and Doreen Findlay and I was their only child. My father was exempt from active service, as he was a dental surgeon, and we lived in Southport (Lancashire then!) - 18 miles from Liverpool.

My two most vivid memories of World War II are the nights when incendiary bombs hit the Tate and Lyle sugar factory in Liverpool and the pinewoods much closer to Southport. I can still see in my mind's eye the blue flames shooting upwards into the night sky as the sugar burnt and I can hear again the crackling of the burning timber.

My father joined the ARP and frequently went on duty to Liverpool. He suffered his first nervous breakdown in 1941, shortly after he had helped to dig a little girl out of a bombed house. The little girl had worn away her fingernails, trying to escape, but she was dead when the ARP men reached her.

My father then suffered recurrent nervous breakdowns, at shorter and shorter intervals, until he eventually committed suicide in 1958 at the age of 60.

He wasn't a war hero --- but the war most surely killed him.

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